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Vincent was thrown out of Maison Lumière’s front doors, the security guards watching him from just inside the glass entrance.
His face burned with humiliation. His hands were shaking. Every person who passed on the sidewalk felt like they were staring at him, judging him.
He walked blindly down the street, not really seeing where he was going. A rock sat near the curb. Vincent kicked it hard, watching it skitter across the pavement.
“Fuck!” The word tore out of him.
He’d promised Victoria. Promised her he’d get the invitation. And now he had nothing. Worse than nothing in fact.A hand touched his shoulder.
Vincent spun around, ready to lash out at whoever was there.
A man in a dark suit stood behind him. He was younger than Vincent expected, maybe early thirties, with a professional bearing that suggested he had money.
“Someone wants to see you,” the man said quietly.
Vincent pulled back. “I don’t know w you.”
“No. But he knows you.” The
gestured to a black car parked at the curb a few meters away. “It will only take a moment.”
Every instinct Vincent had screamed danger. But desperation made people stupid.
And Vincent was very desperate. He followed the man to the car. The rear door opened as they walked towards it.
Inside, a man sat in the leather seat, looking at his phone. He was middle–aged, probably late forties, wearing a suit that Vincent’s trained eye immediately recognized as bespoke. Who ever this is had a lot of money.
His watch was understated but Vincent recognized it. It was a limited edition. And cost a million yuan minimum. The man looked up as Vincent stood uncertainly by the open car door.
“Please, sit.” His voice was cultured, and calm.
Vincent climbed into the car. The door closed behind him with a soft, click.
Up close, the man was even more imposing. Not physically…he wasn’t particularly large…but there was something in his presence that suggested power. Real power, not the fake kind Vincent had been pretending to have.
Vincent found he couldn’t speak. His throat had gone dry.
The man set his phone aside and smiled slightly. “I happened to overhear your… discussion with Manager Idris. The walls in that building are thinner than one would expect.”
Vincent’s stomach dropped.
“I understand you need tickets to Madame Duchamp’s gala,” the man continued. “Two tickets, specifically.”
Vincent managed a nod. “I can provide them.”
Hope surged in Vincent’s chest, so sudden and overwhelming it was almost painful. “You can?”
“I can.” The man’s smile widened slightly. “I have… connections that make such things possible.”
“L…” Vincent’s voice came out hoarse. “I don’t have much money right now, but I can arrange payment, I can…”
The man held up a hand, stopping him. “I’m not interested in money, Mr?”
“Lu” Vincent blinked. “Then what do you
“A favor.” The man’s eyes fixed on Vincent’s face. “Someday, in the future, I will ask you to do something for me. When that
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day comes, you will help me. Immediately, without question, or hesitation.”
Vincent’s mind raced. This was too good. Nobody gave away tickets to Madame Duchamp’s gala for nothing. “What kind of
favor?”
“That will depend on what I need when the time comes.” The man’s tone remained pleasant but something in it made Vincent’s skin prickle. “It might be something simple. It might be something.. more complex. But you will do it. Do we understand each other?”
“What if it’s something I can’t do?”
The pleasant expression didn’t change but the man’s eyes went coll. “Then I will ruin you, Mr. Lu. Completely and utterly. I will make sure you have nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. You will lose everything.”
The threat was delivered in the same calm, cultured voice. Somehow that made it more terrifying.
Vincent swallowed hard. “How do I know you can actually get the tickets?”
The man reached into his jacket and pulled out two envelopes. He opened one, showing Vincent the contents.
Inside was a formal invitation to Madame Duchamp’s gala, complete with platinum ticket and security hologram. The signature at the bottom was unmistakably Madame Duchamp’s.
“These are real,” the man said.
Vincent stared at the invitations like they were made of gold.
“So,” the man said, tucking them back into his jacket. “Do we have an agreement?”
Every rational part of Vincent’s brain screamed at him to walk away. This was dangerous. This man was dangerous. Whatever favor he’d eventually demand would probably destroy Vincent’s life.
But Victoria was waiting. And he needed her to clear off his debt.
“Yes,” Vincent heard himself say. “We have an agreement.”
The man’s smile returned, warmer now. He pulled out the two envelopes and handed them to Vincent. “Excellent. I’m glad we could help each other.”
Vincent took the envelopes with shaking hands. The weight of them felt surreal.
“One more thing,” the man said as Vincent reached for the door handle. “Don’t try to find out who I am or who I work for. When I need you, I’ll contact you. Until then, enjoy the gala.”
Vincent nodded mutely.
“You may go now.”
Vincent climbed out of the car on unsteady legs. The door closed behind him and the car pulled smoothly into traffic, disappearing around the corner within seconds.
Vincent stood on the sidewalk, staring down at the envelopes in his hands.
He’d done it. He actually had the tickets.
Victoria would be thrilled. Vincent tried to ignore the cold dread settling in his stomach.
He’d just sold himself to a complete stranger. Agreed to do an unknown favor at an unknown time for someone whose name he didn’t even know. But he had the tickets.
That’s what mattered. That’s all that mattered. He will handle the problems one stroll at a time.
Vincent tucked the envelopes carefully into his jacket pocket and started walking back toward the parking garage where he’d
left his car.
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Behind him, in the black car now stopped in traffic two blocks away, the man pulled out his phone and made a call.
“It’s done,” he said when someone answered. “Lu took the bait exactly as you predicted.”
On the other end of the line, another voice came through clearly. And the tickets?”
“Genuine ones, as requested. He’ll be able to get into the gala without any problems.”
“Perfect.” The voice said then paused. “He will want a full report.
“Tell him Vincent Lu is now completely in our pocket. When we need him, he’ll have no choice but to comply.”
The man ended the call and smiled to himself as the car continued through the city.
Sometimes the best traps were the ones people walked into willingly, thinking they were getting exactly what they wanted.
And Vincent Lu had walked in with his eyes
wide
open.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
